CSU Athletics

Brotherhood drives Colorado linebackers Doug Rippy and Jon Major

Rugged linebackers Doug Rippy, left, and Jon Major have overcome knee injuries to be the heart and soul of the Colorado defense. "As seniors, Jon and I know what it takes," Rippy says. (AAron Ontiveroz, The Denver Post)

BOULDER — Rippy and Major. Your neighbor's pets? A children's book? Comedy act? It's a set of twins on the Colorado football team. No, that's not right either. But senior linebackers Doug Rippy and Jon Major jokingly call themselves "twins."

They may not look alike, but Rippy and Major have become the heart and soul of the Buffaloes' defense. And that's double trouble for opponents, starting with Colorado State in Saturday's 2 p.m. season opener at Sports Authority Field at Mile High.

Pals since they arrived at CU in 2008, Rippy (6-foot-3 and 245 pounds) and Major (6-2, 235) room together and hang out together away from football, then complement each other on the playing field — when they're not watching game film together.

The "twins thing" seems to be a running joke among the Buffs. But linebackers coach Brian Cabral is all for it. Anything to build camaraderie and chemistry.

Major is a Caucasian from Parker, an upscale Denver suburb. Rippy, an African-American, is a city kid who was born in Philadelphia and moved with his family to Ohio, where he played high school football in Columbus and Dayton.

At Colorado, they have learned together and grown together, and now lead a linebacker unit, along with junior Derrick Webb, that should be the strength of CU's defense.

They have experienced so much together — including being there for moral support when each had seasons curtailed by knee injuries — Major in 2008 and 2010, Rippy in 2009 and 2011.

Last season, Rippy was leading the team in tackles with 62 when he tore knee ligaments in the seventh game, against Washington, and was done for the year. Despite playing for little more than half the season, Pac-12 coaches voted Rippy honorable mention all-conference. He is among 51 on the official "watch list" for the 2012 Butkus Award.

Major finished last season as the team's top tackler (85) and is ranked as a preseason second team all-Pac-12 linebacker by at least one preseason college football magazine.

It's too bad there isn't a category for "twins."

"We were just joking around and both of us just kind of came up with calling ourselves 'twins,' " Major said. "We just wanted to have fun with it. It's corny. But little things like that make life fun."

Although Rippy and Major are similar in size and both have excellent speed for a linebacker, their styles of play differ. "Jon thinks everything through, he processes and analyzes," Cabral said. "Whereas, Doug just goes. Both styles can be effective, very much so. And they're going to be good for each other on the field."

Rippy said they "can feed off" each other.

"As seniors, Jon and I know what it takes," Rippy said. "Jon has really helped me over the years. I can really say that this year, watching film with each other and with the younger players, it has really helped bring everybody along. It's helped with our chemistry and with chemistry with the other players."

There are no hard feelings in a true friendship. Criticism is taken constructively, not personally.

"If I can get on him about something, he can get on me about something," Major said. "That just makes each other better. That helps everybody because, being linebackers on the same page, it's helping the unit a lot."

In Colorado's system, Rippy begins his second year as the starter at "Mike" (inside) linebacker. Major is a three-year starter at "Sam" (outside) linebacker. Both have been around long enough to have worked at all linebacker spots.

In fact, Major said they sometimes switch places on the field before a snap. Do Cabral and defensive coordinator Greg Brown know about this?

"If we do it right, they don't care," Major said. "It's just a way to have fun — or cause chaos. It's nice to have that versatility and maybe confuse the other team."

Not all kids who play baseball are uniformed with fancy script across their chests, traveling to $1,000 instructional camps and drilled how to properly hit the cut-off man. Some kids just play to play.